In a Lonely Place
by G550
Summary: The team is trying to deal with the loss of Emily, while Hotch is dealing with guilt and regrets. Some unexpected down time, and mysterious phone calls send Hotch looking for answers on his own.
1. Chapter 1

_Just something that came to me during a long drive. It will be short, less than 10 chapters. It starts out with the hospital scene near the end of "Lauren". After that, it kind of follows my own time line. As always, I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. _

* * *

Hotch stood outside the waiting room, watching his team effectively fall apart. They were greiving. Grieving the loss of a friend who had been such an integral part of the team, of the FAMILY. He could feel the tightness in his chest and the tears welling in his eyes. He was responsible for this, for their suffering. But it was the only way. He knew it was the only way.

JJ walked through the doors, with a somber look on her face. She could see the inner battle that Hotch was waging, and she could feel it too. They stood together in silence, both watching the other members of the team console each other.

"I wish there was some other way."

"There isn't." he said sternly.

"I know. I just...it feels wrong not to tell them. To let them suffer this way, especially Morgan."

"JJ you know that her life depends on this. Their grief has to be genuine. And every person that knows the truth increases the risk that he finds out."

"I understand. It's just that...if it comes out, if we get Doyle..."

"When."

"What?"

"_When_ we get him. We will get him."

"Right, I know we will, Hotch. But when we do, and the truth comes out, I'm just afraid..."

"That it's going to tear this team apart." he finished for her.

"Yes."

"JJ, this is entirely on me. You have nothing to feel guilty about. It's my decision, and I take full responsibility for it. When they find out, their anger will be directed at me. You are just following orders."

"Hotch..."

"We should go."

He walked away from her then, joining the rest of the group.

JJ was worried. It was too much. Too much pressure to put on himself to get Doyle, and too much guilt for him to carry around. She knew that he wouldn't show it, he was the expert at internalizing, but sooner or later it was going to take it's toll. She took a deep breath, and followed her boss back into the waiting room.

* * *

Hotch peeked in on a sleeping Jack, and headed towards his bedroom. Quickly, he stripped down to his boxers and undershirt and threw himself into the bed. It had been almost three weeks since Emily's "death", and he hadn't been able to get a restful nights sleep. He knew tonight was going to be no different. He wanted to tell himself that his team was doing well, but that just wasn't true.

Morgan was dealing with the guilt of not saving Emily - of not getting there a minute or two sooner. And his guilt for the way he second guessed her when she first ran away. Reid was also struggling. Struggling with the loss of his confidante, his friend. Hotch could only pray that the grief wouldn't drive him back to the Dilaudid. He would need to watch him carefully.

And then there was JJ. She was not only dealing with the same guilt, but she'd become a shoulder for Reid and Garcia to cry on. It was almost worse for her, but there was nothing he could to help. He had never been the one that the team came to with emotional issues, and if he tried to fill that role now, it would be awkward.

That just left Rossi. And he was just...Rossi. He had been just as devastated by Emily's death, but he was strangely quiet on the subject. Deep down, he thought maybe Rossi suspected something, but he wasn't worried. If there was one person that he felt could keep such a secret, and keep a straight face, it was Dave Rossi.

And as for Hotch himself...he was full of guilt, and anxiety but also regret. Regret for all of the times that he willingly put her in danger - into situations that he felt she was strong enough to handle, but never should have had to. Like the time he left her alone with Karl Arnold, knowing she was going to have to flirt with him to get information. How did that make him any different than the people who sent her after Doyle? He wondered now, if she ever saw it that way, as if he used her as some sort of bait for serial killers. God, he hoped not.

But mostly, he regretted the things that he didn't say to her when he had the chance. Things that he had bottled up for years. She had been flown out so quickly after the surgery, that there wasn't even time to see her. He wondered how it must have felt for her, waking up in some strange place, cold and alone, finding out that the life she knew was gone. That the people she had come to know as her family were gone.

Trying to push all of the thoughts out of his mind, he rolled over and pounded the pillow. At some point,he must have finally managed to drift off to sleep, only to be awakened by the shrill sound of his cell phone ringing. He rolled over, bleary eyed, grabbing the phone without even looking at the screen.

"Hotchner."

Silence.

"Hotchner." he repeated with a growl.

Still there was no response, and then he heard the beeping of the phone, signalling a disconnected call. He squinted at the screen, seeing an unfamiliar number. Chalking it up to an ill timed mis-dial, he frowned and slammed the phone back on the nightstand. He caught a glimpse of the clock. 5:02 am. He groaned and decided to give up on going back to sleep.

It was a few days later when it happened again. They had just gotten back from a case in San Diego, their third since Emily's funeral. He was sitting as his desk, finishing up the reports when the phone rang. This time, though, he picked it up and glanced at the number.

"Hotchner." again there was nothing on the other end. "Who is this?"

There was silence on both ends for a good ten seconds, before he finally heard the call disconnect. His eyebrows were knitted together in a frown. If someone was just trying to harass him, why weren't they blocking their number? Why weren't they saying anything? It didn't make sense.

Against his better judgement, he dialed the number back, only to have it go straight to a generic message, saying the number was not available. There wasn't even an option to leave a voice mail. He shook his head, put the phone down, and began working on his files again when it came to him. Immediately he was up and on his way to Garcia's office.

She was seated behind her computer, filing her nails while playing a game on the internet. It was obvious that she wasn't exactly swamped with work, so what could it hurt to have her do a little digging?

"Sir?" she said questioningly. "Is there another case already?"

"No, not really. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Your wish is my command, Sir, what can I do for you?"

"If I give you a phone number, can you run it for me, see what comes up?"

"I can try, but if it's a disposable phone there's little chance of tracking down the actual owner. What's the number?"

He looked at his recent call list, and read the number off to her. He noticed the flash in her eyes as she realized that this was a personal request, and not work related. Turning back to her screens, she punched in the numbers and let her programs work their magic.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's probably a burner phone. Nothing comes up."

"Ok Garcia, thanks." he said, turning to leave.

"Uh...you know," she called after him. "If you want, I can run this through my programs, see if I can get an alert when the phone turns on or makes a call. I might be able to get a GPS location on it."

"Not necessary. It's not that important."

"It's no trouble, Sir, and...well you know... I can keep this just between us. If you want."

He stood there staring for a moment, thinking, then nodded his agreement.

"I appreciate that."

He turned and walked back down to his office. He knew it was probably nothing, probably just a wrong number. Still, with all that had happened in the last few years - Foyet, Doyle, and Emily..he couldn't shut off the suspicious and overly cautious part of his brain. He stopped in his tracks and stared down at the phone as the thought came to him...Emily.


	2. Chapter 2

No...it couldn't be. She wouldn't risk that after all they went through to keep her safe. Unless something was very very wrong. He was standing there, lost in thought, when Strauss came up behind him. She must have said his name a couple of times, because when he finally heard her, her voice was quite loud.

"Agent Hotchner!"

"Chief Strauss, sorry, I was just...what can I do for you?"

"I'd like to meet with you in my office if you have a minute."

"Well actually..."

"It's not a request." she said, walking away, fully expecting him to follow.

He put his phone away, and grudgingly made his way towards her office. The tone in her voice told him that whatever this was, it couldnt be good. She was already seated when he walked in, and motioned for him to close the door. Yep, it was definitely not good.

"What's this about?"

"As you know, I've read all of your grief evaluations. It's clear that this team has not yet dealt with Emily's death."

"How can you say that? Everyone deals with these things differently. And we've had 3 cases since then, cases we have successfully solved."

"That's just it, nobody has stepped back and taken a breath. The director is...concerned."

"What are you not saying?"

"There was some real talk about splitting up this unit. As you know, each member of your team was offered a position elsewhere, and every one of them turned it down. They're very loyal to you."

"Not to me. To each other."

She shrugged.

"Aaron, we've had our battles. I can't imagine what you're going through right now..."

Hotch waved to cut her off. He didn't even want the subject mentioned inside these walls.

"Right. I know you won't believe me, but I want this team to stay together. If it wasn't for me, you would be out in the middle of a God forsaken desert right now."

"What does that even mean?"

"Never mind. It's not important." she brushed him off. "What's important is, I went out a limb for you and I think I've worked out a compromise that you can live with."

"Go on."

"Begininning tomorrow, every member of the team will go on a two week paid leave. They want you all to take time, to process things. Before you argue, know that this is not up for debate. After that time, everyone will be evaluated and if all is well...things will go back to the way they were."

"Things will never be the way they were..."

"I'm sorry." she said sincerely. "Think of it as a vacation. Spend some time with Jack, maybe get away.."

"Jack left for Florida this morning with Haley's sister. He'll be gone a week."

"So join them there. Or don't. But when you leave here today, I don't want to see you or the rest of the team in this building for two weeks."

She stood up, signalling that this was the end of the conversation.

"If we do this, the team stays together?"

"You have my word."

He nodded, turned and put his hand on the doorknob.

"I assume you would prefer to be the one to tell them?" she asked.

"I'd appreciate that."

"Fine. But Aaron...don't make me regret this."

* * *

Hotch waited until the end of the day, then gathered the team together and broke the news. He received exactly the response that he expected. Nobody was happy about the forced vacation, but there was, of course one person who reacted more strongly than the others.

"They can't do this!" Morgan shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. "We have a job to do here, man. You have to do something about this."

Hotch was tight lipped and spoke quietly.

"Morgan, keep your voice down. I know how you feel, we all want to get Doyle. Two weeks isn't going to change anything. We'll still get him."

If only Morgan knew just how critical time really was.

"It can change everything." he said, still louder than he should. "You know how much he can accomplish in two weeks with nobody watching? What if he finds Declan? "

"You have to trust me. I have people in place, there will be someone watching."

"People? What people?"

"As I said, you have to trust me."

Derek glared at his unit chief, trying without much luck to control his anger. Not wanting to say something he would regret, he threw down the file he had been holding and stormed off.

"I can go talk to him..." Garcia offered.

"No. Give him time, he'll cool down." Hotch said, starting to walk away. He stopped and turned around to face his team again. "I know that we're technically not working, I would appreciate it if all of you kept your cell phones on during this time."

When he left, the team sat in silence, trying to process everything that was happening.

"What do you think that meant?" Reid asked aloud.

"This whole team has been unofficially trying to track down Ian Doyle for weeks. My guess is he keeps looking on his own." Rossi said

JJ was silent through the entire conversation, waiting until Hotch was in his office before following. She stood in the doorway, knocking lightly as she watched him stuffing files into his briefcase. He looked up briefly before snapping his briefcase shut and walking around his desk.

"I know what you're thinking. I'm fine."

"Hotch, this is eating you up alive."

"I said I'm fine."

"Well, what are you going to do for two weeks?"

Hotch brushed past her in the doorway, effectively ending the conversation.

"I'm going to spend some quality time with my son. I suggest you do the same."

He made his way down the steps, and headed towards the elevator. He pressed the button , and then impatiently hit it again. He was doing his best not to let the team see his frustration, and he just wanted to get out of there.

"You know, that's not going to make the elevator come any faster."

He turned to see Rossi standing behind him, giving him a knowing look.

"Dave, I'd appreciate it if you would check on Morgan before you leave." he said, ignoring the sarcasm.

"He'll be fine. He's just frustrated."

"He's not alone."

The elevator arrived, and Hotch stepped inside. When the doors began to close, Rossi reached out and stopped them with his hand.

"Finding him is not going to bring her back, Aaron."

"I know that, Dave." he said, even though he knew differently.

"I know there's something going on here. I'm not going to ask. But whatever it is, you call me if you need my help."

"I will."


	3. Chapter 3

Hotch walked into his apartment and set down his briefcase. He had brought with him almost everything that he had on Doyle - something that Strauss would definitely not have approved of. He walked over to the bar, made himself a drink, and sat down on the couch. He leaned back and closed his eyes, just trying to clear his head. For a few minutes he even started to doze off, until the phone rang.

It was Jessica, calling to tell him that they had arrived safely in Orlando. She then handed the phone to Jack, who proceeded to ramble on about the flight, and about how the pilot came out to talk to him and gave him his own set of wings. He smiled at how excited and happy his son sounded. It had been a rough year for all of them, and he was glad that Jessica had decided to take him to Disneyland. He almost wished that he was there with them, but he knew that even if he was, his mind would be elsewhere. Jack passed the phone back to his Aunt, and went off to get into his pajamas.

"Jessica, it seems like I'm always saying this, but I really appreciate everything you do for Jack."

"It's no problem, Aaron. It will be good for him to get away. I only wish that you could be here."

"Me too."

He hung up the phone, and leaned back on the couch again. It amazed him how different Jessica was from Haley. Jessica seemed to understand him, and understand just how important his job was to him. Even though that job had cost her a sister.

As much as he wanted to dig into the files in his briefcase, he knew that there was nothing there to go on. Doyle had vanished into thin air. He only hoped that Clyde could do as he had promised, and use his connections track him down. Easter was hell bent on revenge, having no clue that Emily was alive, and Hotch didn't doubt that he would cross any line necessary to track Ian Doyle. Even though Hotch was sure that he would call if he had anything, he couldn't stop himself from sending a text.

_"Anything?"_ he texted

He stared at his phone for five minutes, trying to will a reply. He had no sooner set it down when he heard the text come through.

_"Some interesting chatter. Will keep you posted."_

He was frustrated by the lack of detail, but knew whatever it was that Clyde was working on, was probably way too confidential for a text. And probably not substantiated.

It was going to be a long two weeks. Away from his team and the channels that he needed to hunt that bastard down. In the back of his mind, he knew that Garcia had access to almost everything from her home base, and he might have to interrupt her "vacation".

* * *

This time he wasn't sleeping, he was lying there, wide awake at three in the morning. He knew how critical it was to step away from a situation, to give your mind a break, but he couldn't will himself to sleep. He just kept thinking about how scared and alone Emily must feel. Recovering from such a serious injury, combined with losing contact with everyone in her life. He only hoped that wherever she was, she was safe.

He reached over on the nightstand, and checked his phone. No texts, no emails - nothing that would answer any of his questions. He was startled when the phone began to vibrate in his hand. He bolted upright in bed when he saw it - it was that number again. This time, he had a plan. If his suspicions were wrong, he was going to sound like a complete idiot, but he was willing to take that risk.

"This is Aaron Hotchner." he said, in a softer tone than he would normally use.

Nothing.

He thought he could hear someone breathing, but he wasn't sure. He didn't wait long to speak again, afraid that they would get disconnected.

"Don't hang up...please, just don't hang up."

He heard a quiet gasp on the other end, and his heart leapt in his chest as he felt even more sure of the caller's identity. He knew this wasn't smart, he knew what a risk it was. He was taking a hell of a chance. But then, he didn't make the call.

"You don't have to say anything. Just listen." he whispered. "I know you're in a dark place right now, I know that you're probably scared. But you are not alone. You're not forgotten. I_ will_ fix this."

He heard what sounded like a muffled sob, and then silence. He held his phone out to glance at the screen to confirm they were still connected. As much as he wanted to hear her voice, he knew could understand why she was afraid to say anything. The silence hung in the air for another few seconds.

"Are you in danger?"

He heard a shaky breath on other end of the line.

"Yes."

It was barely above a whisper. But it was her, he was certain now.

"Where are you?"

He heard nothing in response.

"Where are you?" he repeated anxiously. "I can help..."

Hearing dead silence on the other end of the line, he glanced at the screen again. She was gone. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He thought he had protected her, thought she would be safe. Now he knew that she was out there, somewhere, and in trouble. He had to find her...but how? He had nothing to go on other than a few brief, and mostly silent, phone calls. And since he wasn't sure if her cover had really been blown, he couldn't involve the team. If someone _was_ suspicious and watching, they would lead them right to her.

The ringing of the phone just about made him jump out of his skin. Hoping it was Emily calling back, he looked at the caller ID, then let out a disappointed breath.

"Garcia?"

"Sir! Sir! That phone turned back on. But then you probably know that since you were the one they were talking to, so I guess I didn't really have to tell you..."

"Garcia." he said again, cutting off her rambling. "It's three in the morning, what are even you doing awake?"

"Oh I couldn't sleep. I was watching this movie with Kevin, and we got into this big fight and then he left so I was sitting here awake and..."

He cleared his throat,

"Oh. Right. Of course. I still don't know who the owner of the phone is, but you kept them on the line long enough for me to get a location. From satellite photos, I can see it's actually a small, and I mean small, ski resort in upstate New York. Which is really odd, don't you think? Because who is skiing this time of year? Oh, and did I mention that the place isn't even open, so nobody should be there at all..."

"Garcia..."

"Sorry. I've sent the coordinates to your phone. Should I send it to the rest of the team?"

"No!" he knew he said it too emphatically. "Garcia, it's not that I don't appreciate it, but it was actually just some kid making prank calls. I got his parents on the line this time, and I'm pretty sure it won't happen again. Please don't bother the team."

"Oh...all righty then..."

"I guess with everything that happened in the last year, I was a little paranoid, I'm sorry I bothered you with it."

"It was no bother, Sir."

After ending the call with Garcia, he navigated to his email, going over the gps location that she had given him. He zoomed in on the satellite image that she had sent. It didn't look like anything more than a couple of cabins, not a resort. This didn't make any sense. Emily was supposed to go to Bethesda, and then out of the country, and she was in upstate New York somewhere? He shook his head. All he knew for sure, was that he had to go find her.


	4. Chapter 4

As badly as Hotch just wanted to run to his car and go find Emily, he knew that he had to be more cool headed. After showering and changing into something more suited for the outdoors, he went to the closet, grabbing a back pack to use as a go bag. Rummaging through his dresser drawers, he quickly pulled out some clothes. He stopped, a thought occuring to him, and he threw in a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt for Emily. After all, he didn't know what kind of shape she was in, or if she had any supplies of any kind, so he wanted to be prepared. As an afterthought, he threw in some first aid supplies.

The next thing he had to figure out, was how he was going to get there. It was at least a 7 hour drive, and he certainly didn't have access to the jet. But if someone was watching, he didn't want to take his own car, either. He decided that a rental was the way to go. He dressed out with his badge and gun, and took one last look around the apartment before closing the door.

After securing the rental car, he put the coordinates that Garcia had given him into the GPS. Even though it was a long drive, it would still be somewhat daylight when he got there. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, depending upon the type of trouble that Emily was in. He picked up his phone and tried to dial her back once again, with no luck. She had either shut the phone off, or someone had done so for her. He couldn't think of that, he just had to get there, and fast.

Well, maybe a little too fast. He was halfway into his trip when he saw the lights and heard the sirens behind him. Looking down, he saw that he was travelling at about 85 mph...much higher than the posted speed limit. He pulled off the side of the road, and rolled down his window. The officer approached cautiously, keeping his body just sideways to the car.

"License, proof of insurance, registration."

"Officer..."

"Don't make me say it again!" he snapped. "Do you know how fast you were going?"

"Yes sir I do. About 85 miles per hour."

"Oh, going to be a smartass, are we?" he snapped, taking the information out of Hotch's hands. "We'll see how smart you feel when we're done here."

Hotch couldn't help but smirk as he watched the officer in his side view mirror. Before even getting back to his car, he flipped open the license holder, which also held the badge. He froze in his tracks and turned back towards the rental car. After a few seconds hesitation, he made his way back to the window.

"You're FBI."

Well, this one was clearly a genius.

"Yes I am."

"You on the job?"

"Yes, and time is very critical, although I didn't intend to be going quite as fast as I was."

"This isn't a government vehicle."

"No it's not. It's an undercover operation. And I really don't want to cause trouble here, but either give me the ticket or let me out of here. Someone's life is hanging in the balance, and I'm sure you don't want to be responsible."

The officer shuffled his feet as if unsure of what he was going to do. Then, he handed the information back to Hotch.

"You need an escort?"

"No, I really don't want to give any kind of notice."

"Then maybe you shouldn't be setting speed records on the highway."

"Duly noted." Hotch said, realizing he was letting him go. "Here's my card. I do appreciate your cooperation."

The officer tipped his head in acknowledgement and tucked the card into his front pocket.

"You never know when one of these might come in handy," he quipped. "Good luck, Agent."

It had only been a ten minute delay, and he was back on the road. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his foot from pressing down on the accelerator. He knew better than to be going in without back up, and he knew that this could cost him his job, especially if it didn't turn out well. At this point he didn't care. All that mattered was getting Emily out of this mess that he had unknowingly gotten her into.

He was about an hour from his destination when the phone began to ring. He glanced at the caller ID and groaned. Rossi.

"Hotchner."

"Don't sound so serious, Aaron, it's Dave. What are you doing tonight?"

He felt himself cringe. He hated lying to any member of the team, yet he was doing it so often these days, it seemed.

"What am I doing? Probably nothing, that IS the point of vacation, right?"

"Well Garcia had this idea to all get together for drinks and dinner tonight. This suspension...I mean VACATION has her a little nervous. Everyone else is already in, you can't be the lone hold out."

"Maybe tomorrow, Dave. Tonight I just want to sit home and have a beer and relax on my couch."

"Really? How are you going to do that from wherever you are?"

"What?"

"I'm standing outside your door, Aaron. Look if you've got a date or something..."

"You know, Jack's in Florida with Jessica and I don't have anyone to answer to tonight, including you."

He made sure the tone bordered on playful, yet got the point across that he wasn't going to discuss it any further.

"Ok Ok. But if you change your mind just give me a call."

He hung up the phone, knowing that Rossi knew something was up. But he also knew that he would respect his privacy and not try to go into it any further. Thankfully Garcia had not called...she probably would have been tracking him down by now.

He knew that he was close to his destination when he began up to head up a mountain road. He really was out in the middle of nowhere, and was starting to get an uneasy feeling. The GPS was losing satellite signal randomly, and he knew he wouldn't be able to count on it much longer. Thankfully, he found a small, well weathered sign by the side of the road that directed him to the cabins. He pulled forward on the road, only to be met with a chained gate. Damn it. He was going to have to walk in. He moved his car off the road and into the woods a little, grabbed his go bag, and headed in.

He had to hike almost a mile before he saw the first of three tiny cabins. Garcia wasn't kidding when she said it was a small family ski resort. Calling it a ski resort was being generous, it was three cabins that happened to be near a hill. It looked like a mom and pop operation that probably now was only catching the overflow from the bigger, popular resorts in the area. Thankfully, not only did the sign say "closed for renovations" but it was definitely not ski season, so the area was deserted.

It was just starting to get dusky. While he knew that anyone inside would see him coming, they wouldn't be able to make out who he was. Again, he didn't really know if that was good or bad. As he approached the first cabin, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and the sweat forming on his forehead. He was not one to be afraid, or even nervous very often. He could count on one hand the number of times that he had actually allowed himself to feel fear, but this was one of those times. He had no idea what was on the other side of that cabin door. No idea if he was blowing Emily's cover, or if she really needed his help. He had to go with his gut. And he was here now. There was no turning back.

He searched the first cabin without incident. The key had been under the mat, of all places, and he didn't even have to break in. It was nothing but one large room with a pullout couch, a very tiny kitchen, and a checked the shower and the sinks. Bone dry. No signs that anyone had been there, or run any water, in days. He moved on to the second cabin, finding much the same. That only left one place.

Hotch reached foward and turned the knob lightly. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he realized that it was locked. He ducked down and worked his way towards the side, finding a window. He pushed up on it, trying to open it. It was stuck, but finally gave way with a rather loud rattle. Damn it, there went any element of surprise. He crawled throught the window, and held gun and flashlight in crossed hands to lead the way.

He could find nothing in the main room, or the kitchen, so he stopped dead, listening for any sound or indication that he was not alone. The last room was the bathroom. Hotch peered in cautiously, his light reflecting the water that had been in the sink. Someone most certainly had been here.

That's when he thought he heard it, the sound of someone breathing. He stopped all movement, listening for it again. There was only one place he had not looked - and that was in the shower itself. The black shower curtain, combined with the onset of darkness gave him a bad feeling. He knew he had to pull that shower curtain back and quickly, before whoever was back there started firing. He raised his gun and with his other hand ripped the curtain back. And came face to face with Emily, who was standing there, frozen in fear, trembling. She was holding her gun in both hands, aiming it dead center at his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

Emily fell back and then slowly slid down the wall until she was seated in the tub. She still held the gun tightly in her outstretched arms, but it was now aimed only at the shower floor. Tears were falling down her face. She hated feeling this vulnerable and weak. This wasn't her. She prided herself on being better than this, but the last couple of weeks had been pure hell.

Hotch knelt down in front of her, holstering his weapon, and raising his hands as if in surrender. In her current state, he wasn't sure what she might do without realizing it, and he had to take precautions. Slowly and carefully, he pried the gun from her shaking hands and set it aside.

"Prentiss, are you all right?"

At the sound of his voice, she snapped out of her trance and threw her arms around him, clinging tightly. He ran his hand up and down her back, soothingly, as he heard her breaths become more even and controlled. She pulled back slightly, having gained some composure.

"H-Hotch. You shouldn't be here. You can't be here, it's not safe."

"We can worry about that later, but right now, are you all right?"

She shook her head no, then nodded yes, and he leaned back just a little to look her up and down. It didn't escape her when his eyes setttled on her stomach, and her hand subconsciously went there.

"Fine. I'm fine. Still a little sore, but all things considered..."

"Can you stand?"

"Yes...am fine."

"Come on, let's go sit on the couch. I'll get you some water."

He helped to her feet, got her situated, and then went to open the mini fridge. It was empty, no food, no water...How long had she been without food? He opened the cupboard, and found a few cans of soup. Well at least there was something there, he thought. He found a glass that looked relatively clean, and filled it with water from the faucet. Turning to hand it to her, he noticed just how fragile she looked. She was seated on the couch, her legs tucked under her, rocking back and forth as if in rythym with her own heartbeat. This was not the Emily Prentiss that he knew.

"How long has it been since you've had anything to eat?" he asked, handing her the glass.

"I don't know...what day is it?"

"Emily what's going on here?" he asked, taking a seat beside her. "When I made the..arrangements, they guaranteed me you would be safe. You're supposed to be under constant guard and out of the country by now."

"Well you know what they say about the best laid plans..."

He was agitated, but part of him welcomed the flippant responses, because it told him that she was getting her bearings back.

"I don't understand. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Don't. Don't second guess yourself. I admit Hotch, when I woke up and found out what was going on, I wasn't happy. I was cut off from everyone I knew. I thought it would just have been better off if you had let me die. I felt like everything I went through was for nothing. But once I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I realized that you were right. This was my only chance."

"It was never meant to be a permanent solution," he said softly "It was just to buy us time until we could get Doyle."

"I know.. " her voice trailed off, and he could tell there was something she wanted to ask.

"What is it?"

"How's Morgan?"

Hotch sighed. Even in the dire straits she was in, she was thinking of others.

"He's dealing with it the way Morgan deals with things. He's angry and hot headed, but he's determined, we all are."

There was an awkward silence, and she leaned forward to set her glass down.

"Emily, how did you end up here alone?"

"It was the night before they were going to evac me from Bethesda to Paris when I saw him. One of Doyles men crossing the hospital grounds. They told me I was crazy, that nobody knew I was there, but I know what I saw, I could feel it. The flight still went off as a decoy, and the agent guarding me brought me here for few days until we could regroup."

"Where is this so called agent that is supposedly guarding you?" The anger in his voice was clear.

"I don't know...A storm came through and knocked out the cell service. As you can see, we were running low on supplies. Dawson took the car to go down and see if he could get a signal. That was three days ago."

She saw Hotch's body stiffen and he looked away.

"What?"

"You said Dawson. Is that Paul Dawson?"

"You know him?"

"No," he shook his head. "But there was a mass message sent out about his death. Killed in the line of duty. No details."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed. "When he didn't come back, I knew Doyle had gotten him. He's been here, watching me, I could feel it."

"We dont' know that. If he knew you were here, he would have just come after you."

"No, that's too easy. He wants to torture me...he's waiting for me to go out in those woods so that he can taunt me and hunt me like an animal."

"Emily..."

"He's here, Hotch. I know he's here."

She was becoming more agitated and he reached out and took her hand to try and calm her down. He knew that she was probably right. It was just the type of thing that Doyle would do, he was all about inflicting the most pain, both psychological and physical. And truth be told, he could sense it too.

"I'm here now, Emily. I'm not going to let him hurt you. We're going to get you out of here and get you someplace safe."

"There's no place safe while he's alive." her voice was shaky. "Oh God, Hotch what's happened to me? I'm acting like a scared child. I'm losing my mind."

"You're exhausted." he said in a calming voice. "How long has it been since you've gotten some sleep?"

"I don't even know, I catch a few minutes here and there, but I've been afraid to close my eyes. He's just waiting for an opportunity."

"Sleep deprivation has a profound effect on your mental and emotional well being, you know that. All you need is some food and some rest."

"I can't sleep. Not when he's out there!"

"I'm here now. I'll stay awake, just close your eyes a few minutes."

"But..."

He reached out and pulled her gently towards him. She gave him a questioning look, hesitating at first before giving in. She buried her head on his shoulder and draped her arm around his chest. It felt so good to be in his arms, to be comforted. If she was going to be honest, she had to admit that she had always wanted this, going all the way back to when he worked for her mother. But over the last six years, it had grown into something more than just that schoolgirl crush. There were so many obstacles that it could never be real, but that didn't stop her from enjoying the moment, smiling just before she dozed off.

* * *

Garcia saw Rossi enter the bar and look around casually for the rest of the group. She raised a hand to catch his attention, and he walked over to the table to join the team.

"Where have you been? You're late! And where's Hotch?"

"It's always better fashionably late." he joked. "And Hotch said he had some things to do."

"Oh come on, Jacks' in Florida, we're on mandated vacation, what could he possibly have to do? I'm going to call him."

"Baby girl," Morgan said, placing his hand over her phone. "If he wants to be alone we need to respect that."

"But..."

"It's nothing personal, Penelope." Rossi interrupted "I think he's just having a hard time dealing with the loss of Emily."

"We all are! That's why would we get together and help each other through it, it's what friends do."

"Well, you're right, but...I think it might be a bit different for Hotch."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we all loved Emily, we all miss her terribly, but I think there was a little 'diffrerent' dynamic to their relationship."

"Whoa wait..." Morgan said "What are you trying to say, Rossi? You sayin' there was something between them?"

"Hotch and Emily?" Spenser joined in. "Really?"

"Hey now," Rossi cautioned. "No, I don't think there was anything actually going on between them. I just think that over the years they had become, well, close. Even if they didn't realize it themselves."

"Huh." Garcia huffed. "How could I have missed that? JJ how could we have missed that?"

JJ sat silently, not saying a word. She took a sip of her drink, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Wait...you knew? Spill!"

"No, there was nothin to know. I just...well I used to see the way he looked at her on the plane when everyone else was asleep. And I heard it in the way she talked about him, ever since that whole ordeal with Foyet. She never really came out and said anything."

Just then Rossi's phone rang, and he was thankful for the interruption. He didn't recognize the number, so he excused himself to find a quieter section of the bar.

The group continued to gossip among themselves, each surprised that almost none of the crack profilers had seen what was right in front of them. For Morgan's part, he wasn't really convinced that there was anything there.

"I think you're both crazy. Hotch would never get involved with someone at the BAU. Especially not someone he was in charge of."

"I didn't say he was involved, Morgan. I agree with you, it isn't something that they ever would have acted on, but you know that saying...at a different time, in a different place...well you know."

"Hey, do you remember how pissed he was when she first joined the team?" Spenser spoke up

"Well he was sure she was a plant for Strauss. And he was right, but Emily defied her." Morgan said proudly

"That was our girl." Garcia added.

"Hey, you remember how she left in the middle of that case to go check on Hotch?" he said with realization. "I never questioned why she did that. But if what you say is right, it all makes sense. Maybe..."

Spenser stopped mid sentence, and all eyes went to Rossi, who had just returned to the table wearing a sobering look. They knew that look, and it wasn't good. Something was very, very wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

They all stared at Rossi, waiting for an explanation for the concern he was wearing. Morgan was the first to speak up.

"Rossi, what is it?"

He hesitated, as if he was unsure about whether he should share the information with the team.

"Come on, spit it out." JJ said.

Rossi put his phone back in his inside coat pocket, and glanced around the table. They clearly already knew there was something wrong, there was no sense in trying to hide it.

"That call was from Clyde Easter."

"From Interpol?" Garcia asked, wide eyed.

"Yes. He's been trying to reach Hotch for the last hour and his phone keeps going to voice mail."

"Why is Easter calling Hotch? What's going on?" Morgan demanded, even though he already suspected the answer.

"Well, it appears that Hotch and Easter have been working together to try and track down Ian Doyle."

"And he was keeping us out of it? Why would he do that?"

"None of that matters now. What matter is that Easter had tracked Doyle to upstate New York. He's positive that he was caught on camera at a toll booth a couple hours ago."

"How did they get access to those cameras?" Reid wondered aloud.

"I'm guessing that's part of why the investigation was kept under the radar." Rossi explained. "Garcia can you try and track Hotch's phone?"

"I can track it if it's on, but if it's going right to voice mail, it's either off or..."

She stopped short, and her eyes grew wide.

"Oh my God..."

"Baby girl, what's wrong?"

"I thought it was just prank calls, he said it was just a kid making prank calls. Why would he make that up? Why would he lie about something like that?"

"Garcia..."

"Right, sorry, I'm rambling. It was Hotch. He's been getting calls on his cell phone, he asked me if I could track the number. I wasn't able to get anything at first, but then last night he kept the caller on the line long enough that I was able to get the coordinates"

"And?"

"And it was some small ski place in upstate New York. But he said it was just a kid making prank calls and not to worry about it. It was Doyle, wasn't it?"

"I don't know the answer to that, but that would explain why he was so evasive when I called him earlier. " Rossi said. "Do you still have the coordinates of the last call?"

"Not with me." she shook her head. "I have to get back to my office, I can access my home computer from there."

"Go. We have to hurry, Garcia."

Almost in unison, they all stood up from the table and headed back to Quantico.

* * *

Hotch looked down at the sleeping figure next to him. She had barely stirred in the last hour, and his arm had long since fallen asleep. He wanted to adjust his position, to stop the feeling of a thousand needles, but didn't want to wake her. Eventually, he saw her eyes flutter open and she was looking up at him.

"How long was I out?" she mumbled, stretching her arms.

"About an hour. How do you feel?"

"Better. You were right, I needed that."

"Now you just need some food."

"I don't need food." she moaned. "Oh God, what I need is a shower. But I don't even have any clean clothes to change into."

"Oh I almost forgot." he said, flexing his arm to get the feeling back. "I didn't know what you might need, so I packed you some sweats and a shirt in my go bag."

"Oh thank God. Where is it?"

Hotch stood up and walked over by the door where he had thrown the bag. He tossed it on the floor in front of her and she immediately unzipped it, and began going through it.

"AHA!" she shouted, smiling. "You were holding out on me!"

"What?"

She had the sweats in one hand, and was holding up a Snicker's bar in the other. He laughed at the way she quickly tore into the wrapper. For just a moment, it seemed she had almost forgotten the danger that they were both in.

"Want a bite?' she asked with her mouthful. "I'll save you one."

"Uh, no. It's all yours. I know better than to get in between a woman and chocolate." He said, sitting down on the couch beside her.

"Smart man, agent Hotchner."

After finishing the candy bar, she tucked the clothes under her arm and headed towards the bathroom. She was about to close the door behind her when she turned to look back at him. She bit her lip nervously and it was almost as if she read his mind.

"I'll be right here." he said, tapping the gun at his side. "Go."

She gave him a half smile and nodded, and disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the water start running, and he got up and walked around the inside of the cabin, making sure all of the blinds were drawn and windows and doors were secured. He knew it wouldn't really matter. If Doyle was out there and ready to make a move, all of the locks in the world wouldn't keep him out.

He was pacing, going back to the window, moving the blinds aside enough that he could peer out into the darkness. Hotch had no idea how he was going to get them out of this, but he wasn't going to let Prentiss see that. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and contemplating turning it back on. Common sense told him to call the team and get some back up, but part of him still hoped that Emily's cover had not been blown, and if that was the case, he couldn't risk it. And besides that, he would have an awful lot of explaining to do.

He was propping a chair under the doorknob when Emily came out of the bathroom, dressed in his sweats and shirt, toweling off her dripping hair. She watched him for a minute, seeing his concern and just how focused he was on what he was doing. She knew him well enough to know that the confidence he was trying to project earlier was for her benefit.

"Hotch, ya know, maybe we should get out of here tonight. We're sitting ducks if we wait here."

"No, we'll wait for daylight," he said without looking. "It's quite a ways back to the car, if it's even still there..."

He did a double take when he finally glanced in her direction. There she stood, wearing his old clothes, her hair wet and mussed from the towel and yet she had never looked more beautiful to him than she did right now. For the first time in longer than he could remember, his heart was overriding his brain. He didn't realize how long he was standing there staring until he saw the questioning look in her eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't form the words.

"Hotch? What is it?"

"Oh, uh nothing." he said, leaning over and picking up his ready bag.

"Mmmm. Not nothing, you looked like you wanted to say something."

"It wasn't important."

"It looked important."

"This isn't the time."

"And what better time is there, Hotch? I mean, let's face it, we might not make it out of here."

She took a step towards him, and he knew instantly that she had figured him out. Of course she had. Somehow, she was always the one who could see past the walls that he tried to keep up. His eyes met hers, and while neither said a word aloud, it was as if they were having an entire conversation.

She held her breath, waiting for him to say something - anything - to let her know that she was reading the situation correctly. Just when she thought that he was about to give in, he seemed to regain his composure. He moved away and began to turn out the lights.

"Come on. We need to try and get some rest."

Emily shook her head and sighed, not wanting to push him any further. If she had only know how close he was to giving in. She turned and made her way into the bedroom, with Hotch following close behind.


	7. Chapter 7

The entire team entered the BAU, hoping that Garcia would be able to connect the dots for them. Any other time, this all might be chalked up to cooincidence. But something had been going on with Hotch lately and they all knew it. And Rossi couldn't remember the time that Hotch didn't answer his phone, no matter what time day or night. As they stepped out of the elevator, they came face to face with Strauss, who was standing there with her arms folded. It was very late, and none of them had even considered that she would still be in the building.

"Chief Strauss..." JJ stammered as she practically took a step backwards. "You're here awfully late."

"I had a meeting with the director, and a lot of paperwork to finish. Not that I have to explain myself. You see, I'm _supposed_ to be here, unlike any of you."

"Erin," Rossi said, taking a step foward. "We might have a problem. Hotch might be in trouble."

"You mean he's gotten himself into more trouble, _Agent Rossi_?" She asked, placing the emphasis on the way she addressed him.

He nodded his head, acknowledging the slip of the tongue. They stared at each other silently, as the rest of the team shifted uneasily.

"You need to go do your magic, Garcia. The rest of you go with her. I'll be there in a minute." Rossi said, never breaking eye contact with Strauss."

"But..."

"Now, Garcia."

"Yes, Sir."

She moved off towards her office, followed closely by the rest of the team. Strauss had a look of disbelief on her face.

"Are you people ignoring a direct order? None of you were supposed to set foot in this place for two weeks. You couldn't even go a full day?"

The entire team looked back just for a moment, then continued on behind Garcia.

"Come on, let's go somewhere we can talk." he whispered. "We wouldn't be doing any of this if it wasn't important."

"David, I went out on a limb to keep this team together because I knew it was important to you. I did it for YOU. And you haven't even waited 24 hours before throwing that all away. This will come back on all of us."

"Is the Director still here?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "But I don't see how that's relevant."

"Then he's not going to know we were here unless you tell him?"

"This isn't a game!"

"You're right. It's not. Let's go to your office so I can explain to you exactly what's going on."

* * *

Prentiss crawled into bed first, sighing heavily as she rested her head on the pillow. It had been so long since she was able to relax, even for a minute. Her body and brain were both exhausted, yet just having Hotch here had changed all of that. That, combined with her earlier nap had brought back her determination, and her certainty that she was going to beat this. She was going to beat Doyle. The strong, confident, Emily Prentiss was back.

Hotch had taken a lightning fast shower, and quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a shirt that he had retrieved from his go bag. Had he been home, he just would have stripped down to his underwear, but there was no way that was happening here.

He got into the bed slowly, trying not to disturb her. She was facing away from him, and he knew that there was no way she had fallen asleep already. He immediately felt his body tense up. This was not a good idea. He should be sleeping on the couch, the floor, anywhere but here. He was lying there on his back, staring up into the darkness when he heard, and felt her shiver.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah." she answered without turning to look at him. "Just a little cold, I guess."

With a slight hesitation, and against his better judgement, he rolled over on his side, positioning himself against her back. She seemed to relax instantly, and he draped an arm over her waist. It felt so comfortable and familiar. He could feel his body begin to respond to being so close to her, and he prayed that she wouldn't notice. All hope for that was lost when she scooted herself back against him, as if trying to find the right position. He felt her freeze for a minute when she realized, and then she rolled over to face him. Even in the darkness she could see the look on his face.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered.

Emily shook her head, as if telling him not to apologize, but she didn't say a word. Instead she was staring into his eyes, as if trying to see into his soul. He couldn't take it anymore, and tried to look away. Without a second thought, and in one fluid movement, she covered his body with hers. She reached a hand under his shirt, tracing circles on his chest.

"Emily, what are you doing?" he asked, hearing the shakiness in his own voice.

"Please, Hotch." she said, leaning in closer to him. "Don't_ think._ Just for one night."

He leaned his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes as her hands moved lower, just barely grazing the waistband of his pants. She was setting him on fire, his entire body tingling in response. It had been so long since any woman had touched him this way. And this wasn't just any woman, this was the one that he had secretly fantasized about for months. He was trying to do the right thing, say the right words, but his body was betraying him.

"Emily..." he groaned. "We...we can't"

"Don't fight me. Just give in. Please."

She almost didn't recognize her own voice. It was the second time she had pleaded with him, and she sounded so needy. But she had waited so long for this, and knew that this might be her only chance. Both hands were now roaming lightly all over his body, driving him out of his mind. He was wavering, she could tell.

"Just for tonight, Hotch. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Just when Emily thought she was making progress, he reached up quickly and took hold of her wrists. There was a look on his face, something she couldn't quite decipher, and then it disappeared. He was struggling to get control, to calm himself down.

"We can't do this, Emily. It isn't right."

It was the controlled, even toned voice of Aaron Hotchner. Her former supervisor, Aaron Hotchner. The realization hit her almost as if she was slapped in the face. Here she was, practically straddling him, begging him to make love to her. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed, ashamed, all of those things. He didn't want her. This was a job, nothing more. And she had just made a complete fool of herself.

"Oh my God, Hotch, I'm sorry. I...I don't know what I was thinking."

He saw the look on her face, and it made his heart clench. She was feeling rejected, hurt, and that was the last thing that he wanted. She pulled herself off of him and rolled over on the bed, getting as far away from him as she could. He sat up in the bed, placing a hand gently on her arm, which she quickly pulled away.

"Emily, look at me."

"Please, Hotch. Let's just go to sleep." it was clear from her voice that she was fighting back tears. "I would rather just forget that this ever happened.

"We have to talk about this."

"Goodnight, Hotch." she said coldly, moving even further away.

"I don't blame you for being upset with me. If you don't want to talk, fine. But I have something to say and you're going to listen."


End file.
